Aftermath (19/20), Draco/Astoria, PG13

[peki]

Fic: Aftermath (19/20)
Pairing: Draco/Astoria, Lucius/Narcissa
Rating: R
Summary: Life goes on, though not quite how Draco had planned.


And then it was over. Draco sat on the Hogwarts Express one last time, staring out the window at the castle growing smaller in the distance until he couldn’t make it out anymore. Only then did he look ahead. He was going home.

With all the stress of the past few weeks, he’d almost forgotten that he hadn’t exactly been on the friendliest terms with his parents lately. True to his word, he hadn’t replied to Narcissa’s letters, and he couldn’t imagine his mother would be pleased. He wondered if she’d even be there to greet him at the station, but the moment he stepped off the train, he saw her, standing apart from the rest of the crowd with Alcyone on her hip.

The baby was a beautiful little girl now whose four-toothed grin made the people around them bite back smiles. Draco caught his mother's eye and saw Narcissa arch an eyebrow as she noticed Astoria shuffling along the platform beside him.

"Oh, your little sister is adorable." Astoria stopped to wait for the crowd ahead of them to disperse a bit. She smiled at Narcissa and nodded as if she hadn't noticed people giving the other woman a wide berth.

Narcissa looked her son up and down, frowning slightly as he and Astoria came closer. “There you are,” she said, extending a cool hand to him. “I came on the chance you might be persuaded to indulge us with your company.”

Draco looked at her holding herself together, tight as a coil. So she’d finally learned to give him space, which of course made him want to fling himself at her for hugs and kisses. They truly deserved each other, he thought with a shiver of embarrassment, and ducked his head to grin hopefully at her through his fringe. “I missed you, Mum.”

Narcissa glared at him as if she suspected mockery, and Draco had to laugh. On an impulse, he threw his long arms around both his mother and sister. He felt Narcissa stiffen with surprise, but then she patted his back with her free hand, letting out a sigh that was only for him to hear.

“I missed you too, darling. I’m glad you’re back. Who's the young lady?”

"Mother, this is Astoria Greengrass." He half turned towards Astoria, finding himself worried that she might have disappeared, but she was still there, smiling her easy smile and looking not at all bothered by Narcissa's scrutiny or the odd glances of the people around them. Heartened, he said, "Astoria, my mother and sister."

“Pleased to meet you.” Astoria grinned at the baby, who was happy with the attention, unlike her mother. “Draco has told me so much about Ally. She is beautiful.”

"Yes, she is," Narcissa said stiffly. "And her name is Alcyone. We should go, Draco, your sister will start to fuss."

Ally smiled sunnily at Astoria, oblivious to the fact that she was to be used as a convenient excuse. Draco bit back a laugh. "I suppose we must."

"Well, don't let me keep you," Astoria said. She put a levitation charm on her trunk and made to move along the platform. "Mrs Malfoy, Draco."

He nodded. With the eyes of his mother and several bystanders on him, he debated whether to say something or not, half fearing public rejection and not wanting to embarrass her, but he'd never had good impulse control, and his every instinct, when she turned away, was to call after her. "Astoria, wait!"

He caught up with her easily enough; she hadn't actually moved very fast. Down the platform, the rest of her family were waiting, Daphne and her parents staring in their direction wearing looks of befuddlement. Draco focussed only on Astoria's expectant face, the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled. "I just," he started, unsure what to say. I’ll miss you would’ve been the obvious choice, but he couldn’t say that, not in front of everybody. “I will see you soon. Right?”

Astoria set down her trunk and then slowly, deliberately, reached out to pull him down to her and kiss him goodbye. She tasted of Fizzing Whizzbees, of smiles and sunshine, and Draco knew then that no matter where they’d find themselves in years to come, he’d always remember how he’d felt then, young and carefree for one precious moment.

Over her shoulder, Draco saw her family staring. There was a wild glint in Daphne’s eyes. She stomped over to where Nott was idling close by and seized him by the wrist, spinning the surprised Theo around and into a full-on snog. Mrs Greengrass glanced back and forth between her daughters, wringing her hands. Her husband rolled his eyes heavenwards in exasperation, but thankfully refrained from public flagellation.

“Saturday next week,” Astoria gasped. “I’ll write to you before then.”

“Yes. Do,” Draco said, letting her go just enough to formulate a plan between them. “We’ll have to take our brooms for a ride. I can’t let you forget everything over the summer.”

“Oh, I’m not fussed,” Astoria smiled, rising up on tiptoes to kiss him one more time. “You know what they say. Save a broom, ride a Chaser. See you soon, Draco.” And then she was gone, leaving him gaping and speechless.

It was looking to be a nice summer.

“Well, well,” Narcissa said as they departed King's Cross to find themselves an inconspicuous spot to disapparate. “A Greengrass. I'd completely forgotten about the younger one. But, darling, you shouldn’t feel like you have to settle for the ugly duckling. Daphne is prettier--”

“Daphne is pregnant with Theo Nott’s baby.”

Narcissa exclaimed in surprise. “No! Really?”

“Did you not see them snogging?”

“No, I was looking elsewhere,” she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes. “Hang Daphne, who cares about her.”

His mother smiled. “Astoria was wearing the sapphire pendant.”

Her curiosity would have annoyed him only a short while ago, but now he only felt a fondness for his mother and her overbearing ways. “Yes,” he said, throwing his arm around Narcissa's shoulders. “Don’t say dad didn’t tell you absolutely everything?”

“He didn’t,” she said, nodding at Draco’s look of surprise. “He kept your confidence, though I’m sure I don’t know what the big secret was! It’s hardly shocking for you to pair up with a suitable pureblood girl.”

“I think it was a shock to Mr and Mrs Greengrass,” Draco said. “Don’t jump five steps ahead, Mum, all right?”

Narcissa nodded, pleased. “I’d never! Come, children, let's go home.”

“And where is that?” he asked.

His mother looked down her nose at him as if that was the silliest question in the world, but the slight quiver of her mouth gave her away. “Where it's always been, of course!”

Before he could comment, she’d apparated them all away. They reappeared on the manicured lawn in the garden of Malfoy Manor. Delighted, Draco looked to his mother, who shrugged a little sheepishly. “I suppose we should make the most of our time together now that you’re back. Celebrate a little. You’ve finished school, after all.”

They made their way across the lawn up to the magnificent house, which lay bathed in late afternoon sunshine. The patio door opened as they approached. “Dada!” made baby Ally, and Narcissa set her down on the stone floor to crawl the small distance to her father, who stood in the doorway.

“Look at her, she crawls.” Lucius bent to sweep the little girl up into his arms. Excitedly, Ally reached out to grab fistfuls of his hair, which he suffered with surprising patience. His gaze swept over his wife and son, and Draco thought that his father actually looked happy. “She looks more like you with every passing day, Cissy, thank goodness.”

“If you think complimenting my baby will get you anywhere, Malfoy, you’re… Oh, you’re right.” Narcissa pressed a kiss to his cheek, which seemed to take him by surprise. She stepped out of his reach again immediately, but she was smiling. “She started crawling just a few days ago, but she’s getting fast already.”

“Amazing,” Draco said dryly. “I’m here too, just in case you forgot. And I’ve successfully finished my NEWTs, if that bears mentioning.”

His mother laughed. “Come, you can tell us all about school over tea.” She moved through the house giving orders to the elves, adjusting a picture frame here and vanishing a wilted bouquet there quite like she’d always done, which Draco noted with some satisfaction. The house, too, felt much like always, no trace remaining of the fire Lucius had started. The family rooms downstairs were resplendent in a new colour scheme of greens and dark wood, which made for a nice change from the colourless whites Narcissa had previously favoured. Overall, things seemed improved everywhere.

His father seemed equally delighted as Draco felt, though it wasn’t his way to be effusive. He simply sat and watched Narcissa fuss over the layout of the tea table, a stain on the cushions and their children all in short order, and listened to Draco talk about the final days at Hogwarts.

“You’ve done well with what you were given,” he told Draco as they all sat in the shade of an ancient oak tree, watching Ally play in the grass. He looked over Draco’s NEWT results sheet, nodding. “This is excellent, Draco. I’m proud of you.”

Draco flailed so hard that he almost fell over with his chair. He glanced at his mother, who rolled her eyes. “Are you feeling ill? Shall I call a healer? Or perhaps an exorcist?”

“Come now,” Lucius said indignantly, “You know how proud I am of you, I’ve told you many times.”

“No. Never.” If Lucius was going to rewrite history, he had to be more subtle about it.

Lucius was suddenly affected by an uncharacteristic sheepishness. He brushed invisible lint off his robes, not quite looking at his wife and son. “Well, I’ve thought it many times.”

“Mm, I’ve always loved it when you thought something nice.” Narcissa braced her elbows on the tea table and fixated him like a snake the mouse. “It’s so comforting to know that you might feel fond of us.”

“I do feel fond of you,” he grumbled. “All right. I can try.”

“Do,” Narcissa said, and then she conjured up three champagne flutes and handed her husband a chilled bottle from a bucket of ice. “And now kindly pour us a drink.”

The champagne was delicious. After three glasses, Draco began to feel mellow. He went to lie in the grass with Alcyone, who crawled all over him gurgling with delight. She was only a baby, but Draco thought she seemed happy to have him back. He lifted her up above his head, making whooshing noises like flying. Ally squealed happily.

“Be careful!” Narcissa cried when Draco began to toss the baby into the air.

He and Ally just laughed together. “You like that, don’t you, Al. I think I’ll take you flying with me sometime.”

“You will do no such thing!” Narcissa said, but she too had to smile. “And don’t call your sister ‘Al’, it’s horrid.”

Draco caught the baby and hugged her close for a moment, enjoying the way she giggled and flailed in his arms, so carefree, so happy. He wouldn’t miss his stupid parents much when he went to Manchester, but he’d miss her. He’d have to come back home regularly if only to keep an eye on Ally. Someone had to make sure she had fun.

“The great and terrible beauty of the Blacks, made flesh once again. What have I brought upon mankind?” Lucius mused, watching the baby laughing.

“Of all the things you might regret,” Narcissa began, and he chuckled softly.

“I’ve created the instrument of my destruction. It’s enough to make a man circumspect.” An odd softness came over his expression that smoothed the drawn, impatient lines around his mouth and forehead and made his sharp face look almost even. “She’ll be your twin, Cissy, gods help us.”

Narcissa laughed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I shall have my hands full fending off her admirers. Let us hope that Shacklebolt will allow me a wand by then or I’ll have to dig their graves with my bare hands. Whatever you do, Draco, don’t father daughters.”

“You’re not supposed to have favourites, you know,” Draco said, but he too had to smile. With his parents’ eyes firmly on Ally and each other, he’d be able to come and go and court dimply-smiled witches as he pleased, without unpleasant scrutiny.

Eventually, the baby quieted down and began to nod off on his chest. A wet patch of fabric stuck to his skin where Alcyone drooled on his shirt, and this was where Draco drew the line. He handed the child back to their mother, careful not to jostle Ally awake, and Narcissa put the girl into her pram for a nap.

“Has mum moved back in?” Draco asked as they watched Narcissa push the pram across the lawn, stopping here and there to pick flowers.

“Sort of. We’ve come to a compromise. I’ve sold her the cottage on the other side of the gardens for the fantastic sum of one Galleon. Now the wards extend there, I can’t enter it anymore and she can have her space. Besides, it’ll keep Ally safe and the busybodies in Child Services appeased.” Lucius’s mouth curled at the corners. “But I think I’m making progress. Now, look at this.” He pulled a brochure from his pocket and placed it in front of Draco. Two Muggles smiled at him from a still photograph. The London School of Economics - BSc Accounting and Finance, the title read.

“I can’t do Arithmancy without magic, but the Ministry will not stop me keeping my books,” Lucius said, his jaw setting with determination. He set the puzzle cube which Draco had given him at Christmas next to the brochure. “This gave me an idea. Make like the Muggles, was that what you said? I’ve made some inquiries. They actually get very extensive schooling to make up for their sad deficiencies. This is just the beginning, Draco. My father kept a portfolio of Muggle stocks for sport. I went on to acquire some real estate, but I never really got serious about Muggle business. We’re being made to branch out; the Ministry would love to see this family falter, but we won’t. There is a gold mine we haven’t even scratched the surface of. Those Muggles can be dealt with, it’s like doing business with a flock of sheep. The possibilities are endless.”

The world was new, and life was full of surprises.

Draco watched his father rub his hands together like the cliché of an evil mastermind that he was. “And what of mum? Is she going to help you, er, tend the flock?”

Lucius smirked. “Well. Wolves do run in packs.”

Draco tried to wrap his mind around all this. “So you want to take classes from a Muggle university?” He really was starting to wonder if his father had had too much sun.

“No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to rub elbows with the plebs, and I can’t actually go anywhere.” He pointed at the brochure. “That isn’t for me.”

He watched Draco closely while that sank in, positively vibrating with evil amusement. “You… What? You can’t be serious! No!”

“I assure you I am. I can teach you how to handle the family finances, but I’ve long been feeling that we need to expand. You can go out there and learn something new. Perhaps bring the coursework home, even, we might learn something together.”

This whole thing had to be an elaborate joke. “No. I’m going to Manchester to learn about broom making.”

Lucius waved a dismissive hand. “You can fiddle with broomsticks in your spare time.”

“No.” His father’s will was mighty, but Draco’s stubbornness was greater. He had made a choice for himself, and for once he would see it through. “You want me to go and do something new. And I will. I’m going to Manchester.”

His father sighed. “All right. Satisfy your whims, and then you can be back here by Christmas to do something useful.”

“You don’t understand.” Not long ago, Draco would have grown angry, would have raged and moaned and eventually resentfully acquiesced. Now he looked at his father, the man’s face like a glimpse into Draco’s own future, and knew that he could never be like him, could never do quite as Lucius wanted. And that was all right. “I’m not coming back, Dad,” he said almost gently. “I mean, I want to be here for Ally, and we can work together on whatever you think needs attention. But I’m leaving. If I don’t like it in Manchester, I’ll go somewhere else. Find myself something to do.”

Lucius frowned, but then he nodded. “Well. I can understand you need time on your own. That’s why I’ve signed the town house over to you.”

“The...what?” Lucius was fond of the town house, his old bachelor pad, and had kept it as an office and formal sitting room for when he had business dealings in London. Draco had heard stories of the legendary parties that had taken place there, stories that his father only ever told out of earshot of Narcissa. By his own accounts, Lucius had been a tall and fair billionaire philanderer wrapped in snazzy robes and dark magic. Some part of that had been smoke and mirrors, Draco now knew, but he had once envisioned himself walking in those stylish footsteps and the thought was still appealing now. Here was a bribe, but a very tempting one.

“Not that it was necessary to transfer it, but I know how you are about things being yours.” Lucius continued on, smirking at the successful surprise as Draco fumbled around for words. “Don’t be silly now and say no. Think about it. You can refurnish it any way you like. Your mother would fret if the only home you had to go to was some hole in Manchester.”

“I...” Malfoys didn’t reject gifts, it was silly. That was one of the better life rules they had, Draco thought, and laughed. “All right. And what do you want me to do in London when I live there, Dad?”

“Oh, nothing much. You’d have to look in at Gringott’s occasionally, see that those goblins do their jobs. You could go to the Ministry on my behalf, when needed. And the Firebolt office is in London too, of course, which will be convenient to you.”

He could never extricate himself from his family completely, but then, Draco didn’t want to, never had. They might be nutters, but they were his nutters. “Fine. I’ll take it. And I have something for you, too.” He pulled the staff he had been working on from his pocket, shrunk to miniature size, and placed it in his father’s hand. “Ready?”

The stick unshrunk at a wave of his wand. Lucius weighed it in his hand, puzzled. “What is this ugly thing? Don’t tell me you--” He suddenly broke off, clasping his other hand around the stick. The rough, unpolished wood cut into his palms, but he held on tightly. “This is... It’s alive.”

Draco shrugged. “I’m not a wandmaker. I wasn’t trying to be a wandmaker, I just wanted to make a broom, but then Astoria said something about wizards’ staffs, and when I started the spellwork, I realised a broomstick is not so different from that. It’s just an experiment,” he cautioned when he saw his father’s face light up with unholy glee. “An idea.”

“It’s an idea all right.” Lucius rose, twirling the stick, suddenly animated. “Elm, isn’t it? Like my old wand. Why have I never thought of this? The verdict only prevents me from having a wand. Not some other instrument of magic.”

“That’s what I thought.” Draco doubted that the Ministry would consider the difference between ‘wand’ and ‘staff’ anything other than semantics, but here was an opening, a way for his father to take action. A glimmer of hope. “I only just started looking into this. It’s a project. Something for you to do.”

“Something for us to do together?” His father looked at him, and Draco realised with some shock that the man was actually, genuinely smiling.

He nodded, unwilling to spoil the moment. They stood together in the sunny garden, father and son bent over a stick, and it was almost as it once used to be. “Sure, Dad.”

Lucius pointed it at a tree in the distance. “Incendio.” A few sparks burst from the broom’s handle and fell on to the grass, where they singed a few blades before they died. He looked down at the thin string of smoke uncurling at his feet and chuckled. “It’s true, you’re not a wandmaker.”

“Fuck off,” Draco said, but he had to grin at his father’s good cheer.

“Well. Your plans might actually prove useful. You can go to Manchester and learn something about broom making, and I can start reading up on magical conduits. And this might help keep my bursts of magic controlled, if nothing else.” He pointed the broom handle at the black spot on the grass. “Aguamenti.”

Two drops of water, that was all, but it felt like a new beginning. Draco had no doubt that his father would find something to be displeased with soon enough, but for the moment, life was all right.

“The first thing I’ll do is make this thing better looking,” Lucius said as they walked back to the house. He was twirling the stick, testing its balance. “You could have polished it up a little, you know. I’m not going to be caught with a staff that looks like you just broke it off the tree. This isn’t the Middle Ages.”

“No, it’s just a middle age crisis,” Draco remarked and received a nudge with the broom-staff for his troubles. Cackling, he jogged ahead towards the house, where his mother stood in the door.

“What do you have there?” Narcissa asked when her husband came closer, the stick swung over his shoulder.

“A crafts project,” Lucius smirked. “I’ll show you later.”

“Later,” she said, and smiled at him. “I look forward to it. Draco, shall we? I’d like to be back in time for dinner.”

Draco was to accompany his mother to the Tonks house to pick up some of her things. By tonight, they would all be home, sort of, at least. It was a nice thought, even if Draco itched to get away soon. They hadn’t been a proper family, all of them together, since shortly after Ally was born.

Mrs Tonks for one was less than impressed with the Malfoy family reunion. She stood in the middle of the plain little room that Narcissa had inhabited for the past months and frowned as her sister folded clothes into a trunk. Draco had to awkwardly squeeze past his aunt, moving between the desk and the fireplace, where he was chucking piles of books into the green flames of the Floo to send them to Malfoy Manor.

“You’re really going back to him?” Andromeda said, standing straight and firm like a pillar for Draco to smack into again and again as he tried to manoeuvre around. Mrs Tonks paid him no attention whatsoever. “I can’t believe you, Narcissa. This won’t end well, mark my words.”

“Perhaps it won’t. But perhaps it will.” Narcissa locked her trunk with a click that heralded finality. She straightened up to stand face to face with her sister. “I love him. I’ll take my chances.”

Mrs Tonks hugged her arms around herself. “And what about me?”

“What about you?” Narcissa countered, but she smiled slightly. “Don’t tell me you want my company. All you’ve done is complain about me since I got here. My household charms, my parenting, the way I chew... Nothing was good enough. Remember all my grievous faults and you’ll be happy to be rid of me.”

“I suppose I will be,” Mrs Tonks said tightly. “But I housed you, I cooked for you, I looked after your baby--”

“For which I’ve offered to pay many times.”

“I don’t want your money,” Andromeda scoffed. “A little gratitude would be nice.”

“I didn’t choose this. It just...happened.”

“That’s very convenient for you, isn’t it. And now you’ll go back to Malfoy and forget all about me again.”

They stared at each other for a few long moments. Then Narcissa reached out and carefully smoothed down the faded collar of Mrs Tonk’s very practical, very drab dress. “You know I have a long memory, Andy.”

Andromeda sniffed. “So do I.”

“Well. Do you think you could bring yourself to take tea with me sometime? We shouldn’t deprive Teddy and Alcyone of each other’s company, they enjoy it so much.”

Draco turned away from the desk to look at his mother. Narcissa didn’t extend olive branches, she just didn’t, it was unheard of, but she was reaching out now to embrace her sister, and after a moment, Mrs Tonks relaxed. She sort of patted Narcissa’s back even as she pushed her away. It was a master class in plausible deniability. Draco watched with some fascination as his mother closed her eyes for a moment, smiling before she drew back and assumed her haughty expression again.

“If I visit your house, I won’t make nice with Malfoy. You know that,” Mrs Tonks said.

Narcissa’s lips twitched. “I’m sure the sparring will provide you both with some entertainment. Do come, Andy. Or are you scared?”

Mrs Tonks’s dark eyes flashed. “Of you? You wish.”

They departed from the Tonks house shortly among some more amicable hostility. Mrs Tonks stood in the door for a while, watching them walk down the road to find themselves a secret spot from which to Apparate.

Draco glanced back at her to see her huff and slam the door. “Just when I was well rid of a crazy aunt,” he complained to his mother. “Honestly, Mum!”

“I didn’t plan any of this, but it is what it is. Andromeda is my family. That used to mean something to the Blacks. Perhaps it is time we remembered.” She hooked her arm under Draco’s and squeezed. “I’m so happy you’re home, darling. I was quite upset when you forbade me from writing.”

“I just needed a break.” Draco clasped her hand over his, strolling along towards the sunset. The summer days were long; it was still warm, the sun hanging low in the sky and lighting up the rows of brick houses with orange light as if they were lanterns glowing from within. Muggle children ran down the street, chasing a ball. It was a completely ordinary evening; what a thought that such a thing might still be possible.

“You know, so did I. But I think I’m better now. We all are,” Narcissa smiled. She tugged her robes more tightly around her as they passed the Muggle children, who were brawling now, but otherwise she seemed unfazed. “We’ve made it. Another year, and we’re still alive.”

It was astonishing indeed, but then, Malfoys weren’t so easy to kill. They rose from the ashes, quite literally as it turned out, dusted themselves off, and went on with their lives.

He took a deep breath. “I’m going to move out, Mum.”

To his relief, Narcissa nodded, though she clutched at his arm reflexively, as if she couldn’t help herself. “I know your father gave you the town house. But we will still see you, darling, won’t we?”

“Of course,” he said, thinking of his sister laughing, his father tinkering with sticks. He smiled at his mother. “Will I find you at the Manor?”

“It is my home too, you know,” she said softly. “Of course I’ll be there.”

“Good. I think father needs someone watching him,” Draco smirked. “He’s going round the bend a bit. Said he wants to take classes from a Muggle university!”

Planting seeds of mischief to nurture and grow would provide him with some much-needed entertainment while he still was at home, but in truth, it was nice to enjoy a time of peace even for someone as contrary as Draco. He felt quite satisfied with the world in general and his own place in it in particular, at least until he lay in bed that night and heard the quiet popping sound of Apparition on the balcony outside his parents’ bedroom.

Narcissa had retreated to the newly renovated cottage across the gardens when it was time for Ally to sleep, but now the balcony door opened, and Draco heard his mother’s voice pick up. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but just knowing that his mother had come to talk to Lucius was a relief. Only after a minute, they stopped talking; instead, the bedsprings creaked, Narcissa quietly laughed, and Draco got the slow, sinking feeling that his parents were getting ready to have sex.

Actually, as more noises started to come from the next room, he realized with horror that he’d been listening to them having sex for years; he only hadn’t realized, as a boy, that this was what the commotion was. He stared at the canopy above him, willing himself to ignore them, but his imagination had always been overactive. Groaning, he clasped his hands over his ears and yelled out, “For Merlin’s sake, use a silencing charm!”

When he finally dared uncover his ears, all was quiet to his relief. Truly, it was nice that they were reconciling, but it didn’t have to be in earshot of Draco.

Lucius was in an extremely good mood at breakfast the next morning, which Draco didn’t even really begrudge him until his father looked at him, smirked, and said, “Did you sleep well?”

“You are terrible parents and I hate you,” Draco said crossly.

Lucius laughed long and hard, which was a rare thing in itself and made it impossible for Draco to hold a grudge. He supposed someone had to be a mature adult, so he drew himself up and said in a prim tone, “Well, I don’t care what you do, but please don’t have any more children.”

“I have no intention to,” Lucius said, still chuckling.

“That’s what you said last time.”

“It’s not going to happen. Don’t worry about it.”

Draco eyed him sceptically. “It’s just because of mum, is all. She really shouldn’t be doing that again. And I think we’ve all had enough stress.”

“I hear you, son. Now eat your toast and then tell me about the Greengrass girl.”

Draco opened his mouth to deflect, then realised he didn’t particularly want to. He took some honey on his toast, thinking of the colour of Astoria’s hair, and had to smile. “I like her.”

Lucius seemed surprised to actually receive an answer. “Well, what is she like? Narcissa calls her an ugly duckling.”

Draco rolled his eyes. He could already tell his parents were determined to be unbearable for the foreseeable future. “I see the sun rise when she smiles,” he said, hoping to spoil his father’s appetite.

Lucius looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Come now, I certainly hope you won’t be that silly about a girl.”

“You just spent the better part of a year wooing your own wife. Don’t talk to me about silly,” Draco said. “And Astoria is nice looking by every yardstick except yours.”

Said yardstick chose that moment to appear, coming in from the garden pushing little Alcyone in her pram. The elaborate diamond necklace in the shape of the Pleiades glittered around Narcissa’s neck, entirely inappropriate for the time of day or the setting, but her smile outshone even the sparkle of her jewels. “Good morning. What did I miss? I heard Astoria Greengrass’s name.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to tell.” Nothing that wasn’t flutters inside his chest, like so many butterflies, nothing that he could explain, not in any terms that his parents would understand unless he explained it in such a way that they understood too well, and Draco wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

“How disappointing. May I join you?”

“Please. You have reigned over this house ever since you first set foot in it,” Lucius said with all due deference. “Everything is exactly as you left it. Your laboratory awaits.”

Narcissa took her customary seat across from him and waved her wand to rearrange the pots of jam on the table, which somehow made the breakfast tableau look far more appetising. “I haven’t been in the mood for potionmaking. Not since… You know.” She drew a deep breath, and then said in a rush, “I shouldn’t have done what I did. I put Ally at risk and I caused all of us heartache, and for that I am sorry.”

Draco looked round at her, aghast. He’d never heard his mother apologise for anything.

His father nodded. “Might you have felt less compelled to act, had I paid more attention?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

He inclined his head in a show of humility that came as unnaturally to him as apologies to Narcissa. They stared at each other for a few long moments, then he began to smirk. “So I was remiss in showing my appreciation. I should have known my lady required nothing less than absolutely everything I have,” and Narcissa burst out laughing, relieved, and reached out to take his hand.

“And she still does,” she said, blinking rapidly against a sudden wetness in her eyes, “But I daresay you’ve learned, haven’t you.”

He squeezed her hand. “Stay and find out.”

Draco clutched his throat and gagged. Fortunately, they were delivered from this terrible turn of conversation by the arrival of the post. His eagle owl landed on the back of his chair with a letter from Pansy, pecking at a smaller bird that had flown in too and was now competing for treats. It carried two letters, one addressed to Narcissa in unfamiliar handwriting, one that he instantly recognised as Astoria’s. He handed the first to his mother and tucked the other one away, busying himself with Pansy’s message instead.

Shut the fuck up! she wrote, not bothering with a greeting. I always knew Daphne was a filthy harlot. Will she be Mrs Nott soon, do you think? Ps: Don’t you dare write to me again.

Draco laughed. He and Pansy had been friends once, and perhaps they could be friends again at a distance. “What do you have there?” he asked his mother.

“It’s a letter from Eleanor Greengrass.” Narcissa read through the few lines several times as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “She’s invited me over to tea. Says she’d like to meet Alcyone. Well, it’s all a bit of a bother, but I suppose I should go. It’s only polite.” She looked happy though, Draco thought, probably at the prospect of gathering an insight into his love life. He wanted to scoff, but he remembered how fondly Mrs Greengrass had talked about Narcissa. His mother could use a friend.

“I’ve met her, she seems pleasant,” he offered. “Said you knew each other a long time ago. Was she in Slytherin with you, too?”

“Eleanor? Goodness, no. She’s the silliest little Hufflepuff you’ll ever meet,” Narcissa said, laughing. “Or she used to be. I haven’t seen her in years. We used to work together as apprentices at Slug and Jigger’s Apothecary. It’ll be interesting to see what’s become of her. What kind of girls she’s raised. You know, I am curious--, oh, Draco, mind your manners!”

Draco crammed the entire slice of toast into his mouth and ran out to escape to the garden. He walked across the lawn to an old favourite hiding spot of his up in the oak tree. Its branches were perfect for climbing, even if they swayed a little now under his weight. Making himself comfortable halfway up the tree where the branches forked, he held Astoria’s letter to his face and breathed deeply. The envelope smelled of her and felt warm in his hands, like her; he wondered if she had charmed it again.

Hello, love, the note inside read, I hope you’ve found everything at home as it should be. There’s been a spot of trouble here with Daphne’s news, my father got really upset. But they sat up all night talking things through, and this morning it’s been much calmer already. Theo is coming over later to figure out what they’re going to do. My father’s going to help them, I’m sure. They’ll be all right.

Draco didn’t actually care that much. He read on, It’s been odd to sit down to breakfast without you. I miss you. Mum says I should ask you to come to tea with your mother next week. Will you? I’d really love to properly meet your mother and sister. We could take Ally for a stroll in the garden. Until then? Love, Astoria

They wouldn’t have to make it until the next weekend to see each other. Draco felt unduly relieved. It was silly; he’d be the lone man at tea with three women and a baby girl, which was a horrifying punishment no one should look forward to, and yet he did. He’d finally gone barmy, but if this was his Black heritage manifesting itself, well, there was nothing he could do anyway, he might as well lean into it.

Cheered, he conjured up ink and quill and wrote, It’ll be completely awful, you know. Horrible disaster. Worst idea in history. We’ll be lucky if everybody makes it out alive. Sounds like fun, don’t you think? I’ll be there. Love, Draco